A Homecoming

So while I was living in Seoul, my parents came for a two-week visit to Korea.  It was a really momentous occasion, as it marked the first time that my father returned to Korea, since he left as a young child in 1969.  Both of my parents were born in Korea, immigrated to America with their families at a young age, and grew up in America.  Having spent over 40 years in America, my parents are as culturally acclimated as one could possibly be.  But they still keep a special place in their hearts for their motherland and reminisce about their childhoods spent there.

Statue of King Sejong

Minsokchon, the traditional folk village

Silly dad, being a human lock at Namsan Tower

It was so nice to see my parents and catch up.  My father loved every second of the trip.  Interestingly, he remarked that the Korea that he remembered and modern-day Korea are like two entirely different worlds.  Still suffering from the lingering effects of Japanese occupation and its historic divide into two separate nations, South Korea, in the 1960s, was a struggling third-world country.

But within a matter of decades, South Korea developed from one of Asia's poorest countries to one of the world's wealthiest.  His old neighborhood in Seoul, once dominated by unpaved dirt roads, now sits in the heart of luxury and modernization, surrounded by skyscrapers and shopping complexes.  During their trip, my parents got to visit relatives, old friends, and explore the cities of Seoul, Daegu, and Daejeon.

Deoksugung Palace in Seoul

On Wednesday, February 15th, the three of us got on the KTX and headed to Daegu, the fourth largest city in Korea and the hometown of my paternal grandmother.  My paternal grandmother is the second of six children and the only daughter in the family.  As soon as we arrived, we scoped the crowd to find my great uncle, my paternal grandmother's second brother.  Almost immediately, my father spotted him and ran into his loving embrace.  Standing next to each other, the resemblance between by great uncle and father was undeniable, as were the pent-up emotions from decades of separation.  From there, we went to my great uncle's house for lunch and then looked at old family photos, carefully saved and cherished after all these years.

The day of nostalgia and remembrance continued on into the afternoon.  After lunch, we piled into the car and drove northwest of Daegu, towards the town of Gumi, to visit the tombs of my deceased relatives.  After 40 minutes of driving, we pulled over in a remote area at the base of a mountain and met up with two more of my father's uncles.  From there, we began an upward hike together along a path lined by leaves and decades of filial obligation.  Despite their old age and the steepness of the mountain, my three great uncles trudged ahead, literally and metaphorically leading the way for their descendants. 

We hiked upwards for about 20 minutes and stopped when we arrived at two huge burial mounds strategically placed on the side of the mountain, a traditional burial site for Koreans.  With beads of sweat dripping down my face, I tried to imagine how exhausting it was to carry the bodies up here in the first place and encompass them in perfectly spherical mounds of dirt.  In front of each burial mound stood a stoic gravestone, engraved with Chinese characters - the historic language of Korea before the hangeul alphabet was adopted.  These cryptic words revealed much about my ancestry and relatives that I had never met.

My deceased great-grandfather and his wife were buried behind the first tombstone.  The intricate carvings revealed that he was highly educated and served as a doctor for the army.  Behind the second tombstone, lay my great-great grandfather, who was a Christian pastor.   Although Christianity is now quite prevalent in Korea, it did not become adopted into mainstream society until the 1960s.  Using this date for reference, we can assume that my great-great grandfather was a pioneer in his own right.  As my great uncle translated, it was really fascinating to learn about my deceased relatives.  But things became emotional, once we looked at the back of the gravestone.

On the other side of my great-grandfather's gravestone, we found a transcribed family tree, listing all of his surviving kin.  Following patriarchal customs, only the names of men were listed and his only daughter's name was ostensibly missing.  However, scribbled at the bottom was one final testament to my nuclear family.  The last name carved into the tombstone was that of my paternal grandfather, who married into this family right before the head patriarch passed away.  As soon as my father saw his own father's name, forty-three years of emotions swept over him and began to slowly pour down his face.

It was an incredibly emotional experience for all of us.  Not only did it mark a long-awaited reunion, it was also the first time, in which I felt a personal connection to Korea.  When I look in mirror, my slick black hair and dark almond eyes remind me of my heritage.  When I stumble through conversations in Korean, I become seemingly aware of the culture and history.  However, prior to this moment, I never felt particularly attached to the country - that is, the land and the people. 

In some ways, my decision to come to Korea serves as a full circle for my family.  Forty-three years ago, my father came to America with his family, in hopes for a better life.  In this new country, they worked hard and were rewarded with a comfortable living and relative success.  I was born into this world, having already been blessed by these seized opportunities.  Years later, I decided to return to the motherland with the goal of learning more about myself and where I came from.  Surrounded by five generations of family, I felt an overwhelming sense of warmth around me.  As tears began to stream down my face, the clouds parted and the sun beamed down, as if to say "welcome home."

After experiencing that pivotal moment on the mountain, we said our goodbyes to my father's two other uncles and headed back toward Daegu.  Along the way, we stopped by Daegu Stadium, which hosted the Fifa World Cup in 2002 and most recently, the IAAF World Championships last fall.

Then, we headed to Woobang Tower or Daegu Tower and took the elevator all the way up to the Observation Deck.  Similar to Namsan Tower in Seoul, Woobang Tower offers a beautiful 360 degree view of the entire city.  One notable thing about Daegu is that many of its buildings have roofs that are painted in brightly colored hues - how fitting since city's motto is "Colorful Daegu."  After that, we took the elevator a few flights down to the rotating cafe, where we sipped on overpriced coffee, enjoyed each other's company, and admired the stunning view.

Next, we headed to dinner at a Chinese restaurant.  It was a super fancy joint and everything was delicious.  The food never stopped coming out of the kitchen; I stopped counting after the eighth course or so.  But soon, it was time to return to the train station and head back to Seoul.  Saying goodbye to my great uncle was a really painful experience, especially for my father.  After so many years apart, they were finally reunited and once again forced to go separate ways.  I think that it was a really meaningful day for all of us.  Fortunately, this wasn't goodbye forever.  My father's side of the family is planning on visiting Korea in the fall and I will be going back to Daegu this week, when my students have midterm exams.

On Saturday, February 19th, my parents and I ventured to Daejeon to meet my host family and spend some time exploring my stomping ground.  It was clear that my host mom and sisters spent several days preparing for visit.  The apartment was absolutely spotless and there were nearly fifteen different plates of food offered for lunch.  It was an unbelievable spread.  My two families sat on the floor in the living room and shared a meal together over great conversation and frequent eruptions of laughter.  Everyone ate so much food.  I can't remember the last time I was that full.

After lunch, we sat down and enjoyed free musical entertainment, courtesy of my father and host mother.  They played guitar and sang together, as the rest of us cheered them on and clapped along.  The scene looked right out of some cheesy family sitcom.

My parents and my host family got along so incredibly well.  As usual, my father cracked corny jokes the entire time, and my host family ate it up.  I'm pretty sure they like him better than me.  Haha, but not kidding.  Anyway, here's a nice photo of all of us together and a funny one.

After visiting my host family, I showed my parents around Daejeon.  We went up to the top floor of City Hall, and then walked over to my school.  There was a huge banner affixed to the front of the school building, revealing the college admission results of the graduating third-year class.  This year, my school will be sending fourteen students to SKY universities, a.k.a. the three best universities in Korea.  Talk about impressive!  Next, we headed over to Eunhaengdong, the old downtown area, checked out the underground shopping market, and then took the scenic route to head back to the train station.  It was a perfect day.

It was so good to see my parents and share in my father's homecoming to Korea.  Our visit to Daegu was especially profound and moving.  On this place upon a hill, I felt my personal goals for coming to Korea being realized.  Through that experience, I learned so much about my relatives and finally began to feel at peace with my Korean identity, who I am, and where I'm going.

This is likely the only physical remnant of my ancestors that I will ever see in Korea.  My other three grandparents were born above the 38th parallel and escaped to the South before the war broke out.  Nevertheless, it was amazing to see where one of my grandparents came from and connect with my family's past on an intimate level.  After eight months here, I can now say that Korea's starting to feel like home for me, as well.